


When the Fog is Lifted

by BloodAndPaper



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, I'm so sorry, Mona made me do it, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:56:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8258558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodAndPaper/pseuds/BloodAndPaper
Summary: Carmilla has loved Laura - well - her whole life. This is the angst-ridden plot that's been forming in my head since day one. Star-crossed is the only term that can describe their relationship. An ageless vampire and a human girl so full of life. But what happens when that life begins to fade?The story that no one else wants to write because we live in a world of happy endings. But in the words of the new, wise-to-the-ways-of-the-world Hollis - I'm a realist.





	

Love is patient.

They say love is patient. Where can more patience be found than a soul with three centuries of experience in waiting? Observing. At times criticizing, but never rushing _._ Never pushing. Just waiting.

There’s a moment that comes in every life. Whether at eighteen, or forty-two, or ninety-seven, it comes. A moment where you meet another person who alters the course of your life so definitively, that nothing is ever the same.

It takes patience.

Some people find it very early in life. Childhood sweethearts. Others cycle through an endless cavalcade of broken hearts until they find the one person who can mend it. Others still, choose to remain alone until they find _the one_. But no matter their choices, there is always that moment.

Carmilla Karnstein waited over three hundred years. Seventy-five lifetimes lived in increments of four years at a time. Never in the same place. Never with the same people. Never even with the same name.

Childhood seems wasted waiting, quite impatiently, for the day where you’re able to make your own decisions. Then that day arrives and suddenly, you’re eighteen and the sand seems to be piling up at the wrong end of the hourglass.

And not everyone gets a second chance. Of that she’s aware. That last grain of sand slipping through, for most, is final.

That is why she is patient. She’s living on borrowed time. And while that time – however borrowed it may be – has the illusion of eternity, she is much too old to be so naïve.

Nothing lasts forever.

Love is patient. 

It never held so much meaning before. Before when she thought being patient meant listening to Laura ramble on and on about Harry Potter, or Doctor Who, or any number of mind-numbing fictional diatribes the girl chose to embark on.

* * *

_Several years prior…_

Laura ran her fingers through her hair excitedly as the ending credits began to roll. Carmilla rolled her eyes. _What’s 3 times 8? Oh my god. I’ve just wasted twenty-four hours of my life I’ll never get back._ She sighed.

Laura finally tore her gaze away from the credits and turned to look at Carmilla. “You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t enjoy that. That’s like, one of the best movie series ever put into cinematic existence.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes again. “It was – decent. I guess.”

Laura gaped at her. “Decent?” she squeaked.

She could see the vein in Laura’s forehead starting to throb. _On no._ “Look cutie, we just come from different times. You’d be bored out of your mind with half of the things that I find exciting. You nearly had an aneurism while reading one passage of Camus.”

Laura shrugged. “To each their own I guess.” She nuzzled into Carmilla’s shoulder.

The vampire smiled down at the girl, kissing the top of her head. “The things I let you talk me into. You better be glad you’re cute.”

Laura swatted her ribcage. “Hey! You love me for more than my face.”

Carmilla tightened her arms around the girl. “Too right you are.”

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Laura looked back up. “Did you _really_ not like it?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes and laughed quietly. “The ending kind of ruined it for me.” She shrugged. “I hate when authors spend years of their lives developing these characters, and these fictitious worlds they live in, and the adventures they go on and then, at the end of a story that was already complete, feel the need to insert a _twenty years later_ section. Usually they spend, at most, a day writing it. It’s so disingenuous.”

Laura chuckled quietly. “You’re such a philosophy major.”

Carmilla leaned down and gently pressed her lips against Laura’s. “Forgive me. I grew up in a time when _and they lived happily ever after_ was actually an ending. There was no need to fill _happily ever after_ with superfluous details of what exactly they did during this time.”

Laura pressed forward and deepened the kiss briefly. “How would you feel if someone was writing _our_ story, and after you came back and kissed me they just said _and they lived happily ever after_ , hmm?”

Carmilla smirked. “I’d say they were leaving out the best parts.” She slipped her cool hands under Laura’s shirt and felt the girl shiver. “But otherwise, I’d say that’s a perfectly acceptable ending. The school is saved. The hero gets the girl. All is well in the universe.”

Laura’s face bunched up adorably. “I guess you’re kind of right. It would be weird to leave it at that and then jump twenty years in the future to find us as a married couple, bickering over who’s making dinner that night.”

Carmilla pulled Laura back into her arms. “As if that’s an actual thing to bicker over. If _you_ were making dinner, we’d be living on cookies and hot chocolate. Man cannot live on sugar alone.”

Laura swatted her again. “Jerk face,” she mumbled. “What’s the best ending you’ve ever read?”

Carmilla hummed. She thought only briefly. She took a deep breath. “ _Goodbye, because I love you._ He did not know; he did not understand. He would never understand. Perhaps Doctor Mandelet would have understood if she had seen him – but it was too late; the shore was far behind her, and her strength was gone. She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father’s voice and her sister Margaret’s. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. The was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.”

Laura turned her face toward Carmilla then. “The Awakening?” She frowned. “How is that anywhere close to _and they lived happily ever after_?”

Carmilla shrugged. “It’s not. But it’s real. It’s raw. It’s final. Three hundred years of patience. After a while, you get tired.”

Laura’s frown deepened. “Tired of living?”

Carmilla shrugged again. “ _You_ make life worth living.” She kissed Laura gently. “But, nothing lasts forever. You will age, and I will love you every second of it. And far after. Unfortunately. For it to be so easy. Just to – walk out into the water and never return. Be able to join you in whatever final resting state exists…”

Laura hummed. “I think that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Carmilla held Laura until the girl had fallen asleep, then she laid her down and covered her with a blanket. She brushed the crumbs off of the couch and picked up the half-empty mug of cocoa. She rolled her eyes. Laura thought _she_ was the messy one.

* * *

_Present time._

Love is patient. _Patient_ then was humoring Laura’s many rants and cleaning up after the girl. Taking care of her. Sometimes rescuing her from an adventure gone wrong.

But now.

Love is patient. It means sitting with Laura for hours, waiting for the woman to remember her name. Waiting for that brief moment in time, where the fog lifts from her sunny brown eyes and she sees clearly again. Waiting for Laura to look at her, recognize her, smile. Some days that moment never comes. Some days Carmilla is forced to remain in character – the broody volunteer at the local high school, come to read to an old woman – as Laura likes to put it. She opened the book and rolled her eyes.

Carmilla can’t count the number of times she’d rolled her eyes at Laura. Those annoying little habits. Getting cookie crumbs all over the bed. In the keyboard. On the floor. Leaving half-empty mugs of cocoa sitting in the most random of places – the middle shelf of books in the study, the ledge of the bathtub, the headboard, one time, even stuck between the cushions of the couch.

But love is patient. So she merely swept up the crumbs and took the mugs to the kitchen – rolling her eyes.

What she wouldn’t give now to find a half-empty mug of cocoa sitting – anywhere.

Today she was reading The Time Traveler’s Wife. She always read The Time Traveler’s Wife. She took a deep breath. “It’s hard being left behind. I wait for Henry, not knowing where he is, wondering if he’s okay. It’s hard to be the one who stays…” she began.

She read for hours that day, just waiting – patiently – for the fog to lift. And when Laura lifted her teary eyes and met Carmilla’s, the vampire thought for certain this was it. A smile began to spread across her cheeks without her consent.

“It’s beautiful,” Laura whispered. “How two people can love each other that deeply. Not knowing if they’ll ever be together again. Constantly waiting…”

Carmilla swallowed hard. The smile slowly leaving her face. “It is – beautiful,” she said through the emotions choking her voice. “To be so lucky. To love so deeply to be willing to wait – lifetimes – for the briefest of moments where you get to be loved in that way.”

The fog never cleared that day. Carmilla lied awake in bed that night, staring at the glow in the dark constellations she’d never taken down. Not since the day Laura had put them up.

_Several years prior…_

* * *

“I know it seems a little childish,” Laura said, sticking another star up to the ceiling. “But the doctor told us that little reminders would do wonders for my memory.” She stepped off the stool and took Carmilla’s hand. “I don’t ever want to forget why I fell in love with you.”

Carmilla bit her lip and powered through the tears that were threatening to fall. It wouldn’t be good for Laura to see how much this was hurting her. Laura needed reminders of good times. The woman was already blaming herself for this. Like she somehow _caused_ early onset Alzheimer’s. “Here,” she whispered, taking the bag of glow in the dark stars. “Let me,” she pointed and chuckled. “Orion’s Belt is starting to look like Orion’s Harness.”

Laura fell on the bed in a fit of giggles that made her look twenty years younger. Carmilla could look past the lines at the edges of her eyes. She still saw that nineteen-year-old girl she fell in love with so many years ago.

Laura had just recently started to forget things. Little things at first. Where she put her favorite book. What day of the week it was. What night her favorite shows came on television. But then the time passed, and things forgotten became significantly less _little_. She forgot what her favorite book was. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Whether or not she had eaten that day.

They had gone to the doctor – at the behest of Carmilla – Laura joking every step of the way. “It’s just _old age_ ,” she quipped.

Carmilla knew she would never see forty-two, but she also knew that it was not the appropriate age to start claiming _old age_. She’d thought the worst all the way to the doctor’s office. Cancer. A brain tumor. An aneurism. She’d never even given thought to Alzheimer’s. Laura was too young.

* * *

_Present time._

She stared at the stars and silently let the tears fall she’d been holding back. “It’s hard to be the one who stays…” she whispered into the silence of their empty bedroom.

* * *

Love is kind.

Laura was kind. Laura was always kind. Even when she was being a pain in the ass, she was still kind. She saw the best in people. Saw what the world _could_ be, with a little love and care. Sometimes it was her downfall. But sometimes it worked out. She saw the best in Carmilla. And for that, the vampire would never be able to repay her. 

Carmilla was less kind. But the quote didn’t read _those in love are kind_ it was _love is kind_. It didn’t mean that love never hurt you. Or that everything was always rainbows and butterflies. Loving someone was a battlefield of precariously places landmines – each one carefully crafted to cause the most effective amount of damage to your heart. One wrong step and the whole thing can come crashing down on you in a devastating way that only love can accomplish.

* * *

_Several years prior._

“No, I won’t do it. Find someone else to be your hero.” The words had been razor blades in her throat. But they had to be said. She was no one’s hero. But even as she left. Even as she walked away. Stayed away. Even as she caused Laura so much pain, she had never once stopped loving her. The things she said may have been unkind, but the gesture was still there. She would never let any harm come to Laura, and the girl would never know how often she had been there – in the shadows – saving her.

They had spent months apart. Both yearning for each other. Both too stubborn to admit it. Carmilla had been the one to leave, but Laura had been the one to end it. Even then, Laura had been kind. Carmilla could tell the girl still cared. Laura still worried about what happened to her. She still saw the good in Carmilla, even when the vampire couldn’t see it herself.

And then, Laura’s love had shown through in those final moments. She was shackled and on her knees. Waiting to the blow of the sword that would mean her end. A long-awaited end. The irony – being that it was the first time she hadn’t wished for it. She wanted to stay. To stay with Laura.

Vordenburg gloated. “I bet you wish you’d married my great great grandfather now.”

Carmilla laughed. “I preferred dying.” She steeled her nerves.

Laura stood. “I can’t let you do that!” She held out the Silas Charter and threated to break it.

Vordenburg gasped. “The Silas Charter?” But he shook it off and readied the sword.

Carmilla watched as Laura bolstered herself. “I mean it. I will.”

“No,” Vordenburg said confidently. “You won’t Fraulien Hollis, because you and I are the same. You believe not in the harsh truth of the world, but in a beautiful story. You can’t kill me, cause that isn’t what the heroine does. Not in the world you want to live in.”

Carmilla watched Laura’s confidence waiver, but the girl steeled her face again.

Vordenburg continued. “Also with every other member of the Board dead, killing me would effectively transfer all of Silas to the Corvae Corporation undoing everything that you and your friends have fought and _died_ for. And for what? This creature?” He readied the sword again and Carmilla closed her eyes.

Then she heard it. The sound of a snap. Her eyes flew open and landed on the broken charter. Then rose to Laura’s face. At that moment, that precarious moment in time, each of them had thrown caution to the wind and ran out on that battlefield in search of the other. Laura had _killed_ a man for her. Love was kind, but it was also a force to be reckoned with. Loving someone is devastating. It mars the soul and sometimes blinds a person to everything but…

* * *

_Present time._

But love itself is kind. It cradles you in times of darkness. Comforts you in times of loss. The feeling remains long after the act itself has faded. It’s not the star itself, but what lingers after. This is what lights your path, when everything else is darkness. The star has long since burnt out. The light we see is a mere reflection of what once was. Beautiful. Devastating. Love is like that. Beautiful but devastating. Love is what guides you long after the lover has faded.

She watched Laura as the woman slept. She hadn’t woken today when Carmilla arrived. Usually she woke. The Time Traveler’s Wife sat unopened on the bedside table. The constant beep of Laura’s heart monitor kept cadence with Carmilla’s own. It was deafening. A piercing scream in an otherwise silent existence. _She’s too young_ , the vampire thought – for what felt like the millionth time.

Laura’s heart was weak. Weak from years of forgetting to eat. To drink. To sleep. Things she’d kept hidden from Carmilla – until it was too late. When she’d come home and Laura would fight her tooth and nail. Yelling. Screaming at her to _get out of my house!_ That look in Laura’s eyes – she would never forget. It was burned into the pages of her mind like a brand. The little reminders had served their purpose only for as long as time would allow.

Yellow sticky notes.

Yellow sticky notes _everywhere._ Yellow sticky notes on Laura’s closest to remind her to get dressed in the morning. Yellow sticky notes on the refrigerator reminding her to eat. On the table reminding her to take her medicine. On the mirror…

On Carmilla…

The first time she’d placed a yellow sticky note on her chest before walking in the door. Laura had cried.

_I’m Carmilla. You love me._

Carmilla had to start keeping her blood in a separate refrigerator in the garage. It only took Laura opening the refrigerator and screaming bloody murder one time. It took Carmilla hours to talk the woman down. When the fog cleared, Laura had apologized for several hours more. She’d begged Carmilla to keep it there. She didn’t want to be an inconvenience. She didn’t want Carmilla to have to change her way of life just because _she couldn’t remember_.

But Carmilla had moved it. And…she started spending time away. It was selfish. But seeing that look in Laura’s eyes hurt her more than anything ever had. That look of confusion. Of not knowing. So she spent time away. She worked – long hours. And Laura – it seemed – had ignored the yellow sticky notes most days.

Laura’s heart had almost given out. That was when Carmilla had taken her to the home.

The change in the beeping drew her from her memories. The erratic beat of a heart that was coming awake. Laura’s eyes fluttered open. She looked around in confusion.

Carmilla pushed the pain aside and smiled brightly. “Hello Mrs. Hollis. I’m Carmilla, from Silas High. I’m going to be reading to you today.”

Laura smiled. “That’s so nice of you. What are you reading?”

Carmilla picked up the worn out copy of the Time Traveler’s Wife, showing it to Laura. She opened the book to where she had left off. “Don't you think it's better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?” she quietly read.

She continued reading for a few hours. Laura’s eyes were wide and alert the whole time. Taking in the story. She looked so young in these times. That thirst for knowledge. That excitement that filled her. The never-ending curiosity that use to irritate the vampire to no end. “There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.”

“I love you.”

It came so fast and out of nowhere that Carmilla thought she’d made it all up in her head. But when she looked up from the book, there she was. Laura Hollis. The fog had lifted, and the woman was gazing at her with such love and devotion that the vampire had to choke back a sob. “Laura,” she whispered. “I love you, so, so very much.” She tossed the book aside and pulled her chair as close as she could get it. She took Laura’s face in her cool hands and pressed her lips against the woman’s. “I love. I have loved. I will love.” The words were whispered against Laura’s lips.

Laura pulled back. “How long have I been gone?”

Carmilla shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. You’re here. And I’m here. And everything is perfect.” She kissed the woman again, but Laura pulled away.

“How long Carm?” she begged. Her eyes pleading with the vampire.

Carmilla frowned. “A little over a month,” she admitted. “The nurses said you’ve been in and out, but it’s always been when I wasn’t here.” She looked down, ashamed that she had missed these rare moments of clarity.

“Hey,” Laura whispered. “You can’t stop living your life for me.” She pressed another kiss to Carmilla’s lips. “We knew this would happen right? Nothing lasts forever. I seem to recall this very old, very wise vampire once telling me that.”

Carmilla gave a watery chuckle. “But it’s too soon. You’re not… you’re not supposed to leave me so soon.”

Laura gave her a small smile. “I’ll never leave you. Not really. I’ll always,” she placed her hand on Carmilla’s heart. “I’ll always…” she blinked. “Always.” Confusion settled on her face. “I – I’m sorry – do I know you?”

Carmilla exhaled shakily. “Hello Mrs. Hollis. I’m Carmilla, from Silas High. I’m going to be reading to you today.” She held back the sob that threatened to wrench itself from her chest.

Laura smiled. “That’s so nice of you.”

* * *

Love does not envy. It does not boast. It isn’t proud.

This one, Carmilla struggled with on a daily basis. She _did_ envy. She envied the lovers she saw on the street. She envied her own past with Laura. She envied Laura’s ignorance. That was the one that left her feeling the guiltiest. She envied Laura’s ignorance. In all of this. Laura only felt that pain of loss in the briefest moments where Carmilla felt the happiest. When she was awake. When the fog was lifted. Carmilla’s happiest moments were Laura’s saddest. And for that, she felt immense guilt. But when Laura slipped back into the bliss of ignorance, Carmilla slipped back into the pain of being the one who stays. And she envied that ignorance.

But again, the quote read _love does not envy._ And it was true. Her love did not envy Laura’s ignorance. It rejoiced in the moments their eyes met clearly. It danced in the glow of Laura’s love. It basked in warmth of Laura’s kiss. Her love did not envy Laura’s ignorance. Because while Laura’s love only got the chance to shine through in brief moments of clarity, Carmilla’s love shown like a beacon – constantly. She loved Laura with every fiber of her being. And loving someone so completely was the best feeling in the world – even when it hurt like hell. 

Her love had never been envious. It was proud when Laura triumphed. It was giddy with happiness when Laura rose above the rest. And when someone looked at her lover with lustful eyes, her loved reveled in the fact that Laura was coming _home_ – to her at the end of the day.

* * *

_Several years prior._

Laura had just scored her first major journalism break. She had single-handedly uncovered a drug-ring in Silas. Fourteen men were behind bars because of her careful research. She was beaming at Carmilla as the reporters interviewed her. One in particular was giving Laura _the eyes_.

The briefest moment of jealously flared up in Carmilla, before she remembered that this woman loved her. This woman was coming home to her. This woman had saved her. Had _killed_ for her. This woman – was her life. She had proposed to Laura that night. The ring she’d had for a few months already, but it was never the right time. It never felt right. But watching Laura standing there, so proud of what she had accomplished. Being showered in praise and job offers and _other_ offers, Laura’s eyes had never left Carmilla’s. She never even gave the other women the time of day. Never even looked in their direction. She only had eyes for Carmilla.

Carmilla knew beyond the shadow of a doubt then, that this woman was hers. She had no reason to be envious. She had no need to boast. And yes, she was proud, but she was proud of _Laura_. She was proud that _she_ was the one that this magnificent creature chose to love.

When she popped the question, Laura cried. “You stupid, stupid vampire. What took you so long?” She questioned.

Carmilla shrugged. “Time is nothing, cutie.” She winked at the girl, quoting from Laura’s favorite book.

Laura pulled her into a kiss. Her voice dropped an octave as she dragged Carmilla to their bed. “If time is nothing,” she rasped. “Then I’d like to spend the next few days in bed with you.”

It was hard to envy anyone else when Laura looked at her like that.

* * *

_Present time._

Her love didn’t envy Laura’s ignorance, but it was hard for _her_ not to. As Laura laughed and laughed at the impressions she’d started making while reading. The blissful ignorance of a woman without a care in the world. It tugged on Carmilla’s heart. “We laugh and laugh, and nothing can ever be sad, no one can be lost, or dead, or far away: right now we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.”

Laura smiled widely. “I feel that way right now. This is perfect, Carmilla. Nothing can mar this perfection. I’m going to be sad when the book is finished.” She frowned. “How many pages are left?”

Carmilla thumbed through the pages left. She shrugged. “I have more books.”

Laura’s eyes lit up like the Forth of July. “You would – you would keep reading to me after your volunteer time is over? You – you won’t leave me?”

Carmilla thumbed through the well-worn pages of the book – finding the folded corners easily. She read the quote. “I wont ever leave you, even though you’re always leaving me.”

The fog in Laura’s eyes shifted. Swirling around in confusion and _almost_ recognition. “I – I know you,” she whispered. Then she nodded in determination. “I know you. Don’t I?”

Carmilla tried with all her might to stop the tears from coming. Every time this happened, it just upset Laura. But she nodded anyway. “You do.”

Laura nodded again. “You look – so familiar. But I can’t – I can’t place it.”

Carmilla smiled a tiny smile. “It’s okay, Laura. You don’t have to remember me. I remember enough for both of us.”

Laura frowned. “How? How did we meet?”

Carmilla chuckled. “We met in college. You hated me. I was the worst roommate ever. But then – we – found common ground.” She had to be careful. Laura was sporadic in her reactions to this information. She slowly took Laura’s hand in her own.

Laura gasped and looked down at her hands. The hands of an old woman. “In college?” she questioned – her voice laced with doubt.

Carmilla nodded. “I – I don’t age. I’m – a – I don’t age.”

Laura’s brows furrowed in confusion. “You’re a vampire. Aren’t you?”

Carmilla nodded. “I am.”

Laura nodded again. “That explains the cold hands.”

Carmilla couldn’t help it. She burst into a fit of laughter. She hadn’t laughed in years. It felt like – a release.

Laura grinned. “We were roommates? And you still – you still come and read to me?”

Carmilla smiled. She brought Laura’s hand up to her lips and pressed a kiss against it. “I will never leave you, even though you’re always leaving me.”

Laura frowned again. “We were – we were lovers?”

Carmilla’s heart broke inside of her. _Were_. “Laura, not a day has gone by in which I haven’t loved you. I love. I have loved. I will love.” Her emotions were desperate for some kind of recognition. She was desperate to feel Laura’s love for her. “Laura please. I – please let me kiss you.”

Laura pulled her hand away. “But I – I’m so old. I don’t remember. You’re – you’re so young. And I – you could be lying. You’re lying! Vampires aren’t real! Why are you here? You need to leave.” She pushed at Carmilla’s shoulders.

The vampire felt something crack inside of her. A choked sob wrenched its way from her chest. “Laura please,” she whispered.

Laura shook her head. “You need to leave. Take your book. Go! Just go!”

The nurse came in at that moment. “What’s going on?”

Carmilla shook her head. “She – she recognized me for a moment, then I – I tried to tell her who I was and she – must have slipped back into the fog. She just – got a little confused is all.”

The nurse nodded. “It’s okay Mrs. Hollis,” she soothed. “This is Carmilla. You know Carmilla. She’s a volunteer from the high school. She reads to you every day.”

The look of pure horror that crossed Laura’s face. “Every day?!?”

Carmilla’s eyes were pleading with Laura’s. She shook her head as imperceptibly as she could. _I had to_ , she mouthed. _I had to._

The nurse finished injecting the sedative into Laura’s IV and turned back to Carmilla. She must have seen the desperate look on the vampire’s face, because she reached out a calming hand. “Hey,” she whispered. “It’s okay. This is a normal thing that happens. I know it doesn’t make it any easier, but don’t let it get to you. You’re visits really do help. Any sense of normalcy she can get helps.”

Carmilla nodded. She hated the fact that these people thought she was just a volunteer, but she couldn’t very well tell them that she was the woman’s vampire lover going on forty years. _That_ would go over well.

“You should probably call it a night though,” the nurse said calmly. “She’ll be out for a while.”

Carmilla shook her head. “I’d like to stay for a while. I’ll be gone before she wakes up. Promise.”

The nurse gave her a sad smile. “Take all the time you need.”

Carmilla stared at the sleeping form of her lover. So calm and serene. She didn’t look a day over nineteen. God she loved this woman. The vampire no longer envied Laura’s blissful ignorance. She wouldn’t trade the burden of being the one who stays – for anything in the world.

* * *

Love does not dishonor others. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs.

“It is not self-seeking. It keeps no record of wrongs,” Carmilla chanted in her head. “It is not self-seeking.” If love wasn’t self-seeking, then why did she pray each day that the fog would be lifted. She knew those moments caused Laura pain. She shouldn’t want that for Laura. She shouldn’t want Laura to have to deal with that. But she just – she wanted that moment of recognition to pass over Laura’s features. She wanted to hear the words _I love you_. She wanted to feel safe in Laura’s arms. She wanted to be able to kiss the woman she loved.

She sat in her normal chair, reading to Laura, and all she could think about was the fact that she hadn’t kissed the woman she loved in over three months. Laura’s moments of clarity were coming further and further apart. She used to do anything to keep that sadness away from Laura. Her life had been devoted to seeing Laura as happy as she possibly could be. And now the only time she feels happiness is when Laura is in complete despair. It wasn’t always like this. She never meant for it to be like this.

* * *

_Several years prior._

Laura gaped at the house. “Carm, you – you bought us a home?”

Carmilla nodded. Then frowned. “I bought us a house. The only thing that makes it a _home_ is that fact that you’re inside of it.”

The smile that spread across Laura’s face was infectious. It was something Carmilla craved. Like a drug. She never wanted Laura to stop smiling. She pulled the girl into a kiss, then tugged Laura toward the door. “Come on cutie, we have an entire house that needs _christening_.” She winked at the girl.

Laura chuckled. “I have a feeling there’s going to be more than office furniture related slips.”

Carmilla hummed and kissed Laura deeply. “Mmhmm, like couch related slips. Shower related slips. Kitchen counter related slips. Halfway up the stairs related slips.” She trailed her lips down Laura’s neck.

Laura moaned. “Front porch related slips if you don’t open the door.”

Carmilla grinned widely as she pulled out the key and pushed the door open. “I wouldn’t complain.”

Laura tugged Carmilla toward the couch. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me. It’s already decorated. Oh my god!” she paused pointing at the sign above the door. “You stole the sign?!?”

Carmilla shrugged. “What? This is a good sign…”

The two burst into a fit of giggles, landing on the couch with at thud. Laura crawled on top of the vampire and straddled her. “You are unbelievable.” 

Carmilla smiled. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

Laura smiled. “I really do.”

* * *

_Present time._

“I look at him, look at the book, remember, this book,” Carmilla read. Then she paused mid-sentence. She traced her fingers over the worn pages of the paperback.

“This moment,” Laura whispered. “The first book I ever loved.”

Carmilla’s eyes shot up to Laura’s face. She sucked in a mouthful of air. “Hey,” she whispered.

Laura smiled. “Hey.”

She kissed Laura with all the passion inside of her, and Laura kissed her right back – with everything she had. “How long?”

Carmilla sighed. “Too long. Much too long.” She kissed Laura again, cradling the woman’s cheeks in her hands.

“Oh my!”

Carmilla yanked away. “Oh god.”

The nurse stared at the two a little bewildered. “I – I’m so – sorry?” She shook her head.

Carmilla stood up. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she explained.

Laura frowned. “Carm? Are you – are you embarrassed of me?”

Carmilla turned back to Laura. “What?! Of course not! It’s just – she thinks I’m a volunteer from the _high school_.”

“What!?!” Laura gasped. “Why on Earth?”

The nurse cut in. “Wait. You’re _not_ a volunteer?”

Laura balked. “Of course not,” she huffed. She looked at Carmilla with the love that only a woman who had lived through so much could possess. I’ve been in love with this beautiful creature for nearly forty years.”

Carmilla’s heart melted in her chest. She stared into Laura’s eyes. “Every time I hear you say that, it gives me the strength to keep being the one who stays.”

Laura smiled. She tapped the book. “How many times have you read this to me?”

Carmilla shook her head and laughed. “Enough to have every line memorized.” She frowned. “It’s your favorite. The day you forgot the name of it was the day I started reading it.”

The nurse cleared her throat. “Um not to interrupt this…” she waved her hand at the two. “Whatever this is. But there is no way you’re even twenty. So how…” she trailed off.

Carmilla stood and walked over to her. “My name is Carmilla Karnstein. I – I’m a vampire. I fell in love with this beautiful woman in 2014. And not a day has gone by when I haven’t loved her.”

The nurse put a hand over her heart. She looked at Carmilla with so much compassion. “Vampire thing aside – this all makes so much sense now.”

Carmilla chuckled. “Why is that?”

The nurse shook her head. “I’ve worked here for a long time. And no volunteer is that devoted.”

Carmilla smiled. “Busted.” She shrugged and looked back at Laura. She expected the fog to be settled over the woman’s eyes again, but they remained clear.

“How often do you come here Carm?” Laura asked quietly. The nurse made her silent exit and left the two alone.

Carmilla walked back over and took her seat. “Every day love. Every day.”

Laura smiled. Then frowned. “Carm, you can’t quit living your life for me.”

Carmilla took Laura’s hand into her own and held it tightly. “You are the _only_ thing worth living for.” She pressed her lips against Laura’s hand. “Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust.”

Laura smiled again. “You really do have that whole thing memorized don’t you?”

Carmilla nodded. “I do.”

Laura patted the bed beside her. “C’mere,” she whispered.

Carmilla crawled up on the bed and wrapped her arms carefully around Laura. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

Laura placed her hand over Carmilla’s. “I love you too.” She turned in the circle of Carmilla’s arms and gazed at her lover. “I always love you, even when I don’t know who you are. Even when I don’t know who I am. I always love you.”

Carmilla nodded. Fighting back tears. Laura’s heartbeat was so weak. A little flutter of butterfly wings against her chest. She held the woman tighter, knowing time was short.

“Carm?” Laura questioned.

The vampire hummed.

“When you come next time, can you read me The Awakening?”

Tears spilled over Carmilla’s cheeks, but she nodded. Laura knew. Laura knew their time was short.

The woman wrapped her arms tightly around Carmilla. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

Carmilla’s chest wrenched. “I’ll never leave you, even though you’re always leaving me.”

Love is not self-seeking.

* * *

_Present time._

Love always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes. Always perseveres.

Carmilla looked down at the worn pages of the book. They were wrinkled with age and stained with tears. Laura had had a bad few months. The woman’s heart was growing weaker and weaker. Her times of clarity fewer and further between. It had been eight months since Carmilla had last kissed the woman she loved.

She opened the book to the last chapter. She would have to start it again tomorrow. She didn’t even look down at the page as she read the final passage. She looked into Laura’s eyes, willing the woman to break free. “Today is not much different from all the other days. I get up at dawn, put on slacks and a sweater, brush my hair, make toast, and tea, and sit looking at the lake, wondering if he will come today. It’s not much different from the many other times he was gone, and I waited, except that this time I have instructions: this time I know Henry will come, eventually. I sometimes wonder if this readiness, this expectation, prevents the miracle from happening. But I have no choice. He is coming, and I am here.”

She gently shut the book. “I am here,” she whispered.

“Why are you still here?” Laura whispered.

Carmilla saw the fog lift from her eyes. She smiled. “Because I love you.”

Laura smiled. “I love you too. But why? Why do you still love me? Carm I’m – I’m dying. We both knew this day would come. You need to – you need to move on.”

Carmilla shook her head. “I love you Laura.” She pulled out the small Bible from the bedside table.

Laura gave her the strangest of looks. “When did you get all religious on me?”

Carmilla chuckled. “I didn’t.” She smiled. “But sometimes when you’re sleeping and I’m here, I thumb through it. I found one passage that really spoke to me. Not in the spiritual way or anything, but – it spoke to the part of me that always stays.”

She opened the book to the passage. “Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. It does not dishonor others. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Laura smiled. “I like that.” She hummed. “But I like the other book better.” She tapped the worn paperback on Carmilla’s lap. “It is dark now, and I am very tired. I love you always. Time is nothing.” She tugged Carmilla into a soft kiss. “Time is nothing.” 

* * *

Love never fails.

Carmilla had just finished her shower when she got the call. It was Janet – the nurse from the home.

“Carmilla,” Janet whispered. “She’s fading in and out. There isn’t – there isn’t much time.”

She had barely thrown on clothes before appearing in a puff of black smoke at Laura’s bedside. Janet yelped, but quickly recovered. “She’s here,” the woman said quietly.

Laura looked up at Carmilla. “Hey Carm,” she whispered.

Carmilla exhaled slowly. The beep of the heart monitor was so slow, Carmilla tuned it out and listened for Laura’s heartbeat directly. “Hey cutie,” she whispered.

Laura smiled. “Did you bring The Awakening?”

Carmilla looked at the nurse, confused.

Janet shrugged. “Sometimes, time has a way of giving us a break when it knows we need it. Usually when there isn’t much time left.”

Carmilla bit her lip and forced the tears back. She nodded. She looked back and Laura. “I brought this,” she said holding up the worn copy of The Time Traveler’s Wife.”

Laura frowned. “But I thought your favorite ending was The Awakening.”

Carmilla shrugged. “I don’t like that ending anymore. She just – she just gave up. I’m not giving up. I’m never giving up.”

Laura smiled. “Where were we?”

Carmilla sat down and opened the book. “We were at the beginning,” she said quietly, and started to read. “It’s hard being left behind. I wait for Henry, not knowing where he is, wondering if he’s okay. It’s hard to be the one who stays.”


End file.
